Cheesecake Mornings
by denise1
Summary: After her kidnapping, Sam needs a little help getting her mojo back - Sam and Jack friendship


Cheesecake Mornings

By

Denise

Jack cleared the last checkpoint and stepped out into the fresh evening air. Squinting against the setting sun he tried to remember if he'd left a pair of sunglasses in his truck.

As he made his way across the parking lot he stopped short at the sight of a small Volvo parked in the corner of the lot. What on Earth was she doing here? He knew she was on downtime. They were all on downtime until his arm healed. Normally Carter spending her off-hours working wasn't an extraordinary event but given what had happened in the last week, he'd expected her to actually stay home for once.

Then again, if there was ever a time for her to hide out behind a few dozen well armed guards, it was now.

With a sigh he turned on his heel and signed in, heading back into the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain.

Hoping he'd avoid running into Fraiser, he made a beeline for level 19 and Carter's lab. He paused at the threshold and observed his second in command for a minute. She was seated at the high table; her head propped on her hand. As he watched, she scribbled some notes then paused, chewing on the end of the pen.

"I know memory is the first thing to go but I seem to recall a discussion about leaving when you're on leave," he said, keeping his voice deliberately light as he walked into the room.

She gasped, dropping the pen and looking up with wide eyes. "Colonel. Janet released you?" she said, frowning at his civilian dress.

"Sorta. Actually I locked her in her desk drawer," he quipped. "I thought Hammond gave you the week off?" he asked, knowing full well the man had granted her the leave time, and would have given her more had she asked for it.

"Oh, he did, sir. But…a lot of stuff piled up while I was…gone. I just thought I'd catch things up."

"Aahah." He ambled over and made a show of reading over her shoulder, catching a flash of a grocery list before she turned the paper over. "Why don't you do me a favor and give a grumpy colonel a ride home?"

"Sir?"

"Fraiser said something about not driving," he lied.

"I'm sure you can get an airman," she protested.

"With the kind of budget crunch we're in? Come on," he grabbed her hand and pulled her off her perch. "The fresh air will do you good." He deliberately massaged his sore right arm with his left hand, hoping to instill some guilt into her. It was a low blow he knew, but he had a funny feeling it was the only way to get her to cooperate short of ordering her.

She pulled back then sighed and slumped. "Ok. Just give me a minute."

Releasing her hand, he watched her make her way around the room, turning off equipment as she went. He could see reluctance in every step and action, especially the way she kept glancing at the door as if she was hoping something would happen that would keep her on the base.

Twenty minutes later they finally reached the surface. He knew she'd deliberately taken her time changing into her civvies.  It just served to confirm for him that he was doing the right thing.

"Here." He awkwardly tossed his car keys to her left-handed. She caught them and raised her eyebrows in question. "Nothing personal, Carter. But your car and I don't get along. Besides, I plan to enjoy my downtime and to do that, I'll need transportation."

"Colonel, if I drive your truck to your place, how do I get home?"

"I'll get you a cab," he said, climbing up into the passenger seat. He slammed the door closed and waited, hoping he hadn't pushed too far. He fought the urge to grin when she opened the driver's door and climbed in. Silently, she slid the key into the ignition and started the vehicle.

He could almost feel the tension emanating from her as she put the truck into gear and backed out of the space. Oh yeah, she was ticked off. Just not too much he hoped, or she'd never go along with the rest of his plan.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam unlocked the front door to Jack's house and stood aside, letting him proceed her into the entryway. She awkwardly followed him through the short hall as he moved through the house, snapping on lights as he went. It was now dark outside, the enormous shadow of Pikes Peak sending the city into a premature twilight. And the dark was somewhere she really didn't want to be. He sat down in his armchair and popped out the footrest, sighing as he reclined back.

She stood there for another minute feeling her irritation mount as he continued to ignore her presence. Turning, she set his keys down on the small table and headed for the door. If she remembered correctly there was a convenience store just a couple of blocks away, she could call a cab from there.

"Sit down, Carter."

She turned back to see him staring at her. "Sir?"

"Sit," he ordered. Shooting him an angry look, she crossed to the sofa and sat down stiffly on the edge of the cushions. "Chinese or Italian?" he asked.

"Colonel?"

"You played taxi. I owe you dinner. Chinese or Italian?" he explained.

She relaxed a bit and stood up. "You don't owe my anything, colonel."

"Maybe not, but I want to. I'm hungry and I'm in no mood to eat alone," he said cajoalingly.

She thought for a minute. She should leave. Go call a cab and go home, or better yet, back to the SGC. But right now the thought of spending another night hiding under a mountain was almost as unwelcome as the thought of going back to her empty house. Besides, it was just dinner. "Valentino's lasagna," she said quickly before she could change her mind.

He picked up the cordless phone and lobbed it towards her. "Call it in." He got up from his chair. "I'm going to take a quick shower. Make yourself at home."

She watched him walk stiffly up the stairs and sighed. Make herself at home, huh? Oh, she would SO make herself at home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jack padded down the hall, comfortable in his sweat pants and T-shirt, feeling refreshed after his shower. Nothing felt better than the first post-infirmary shower. If he didn't think it'd get him shot, he'd suggest to Carter that she take a shower, or better yet a long bath. That had always helped Sara relax. And she needed to relax, to let her guard down. He could understand exactly why she felt that way, who wouldn't? But he also knew if she didn't deal with it she was going to crack. That if she didn't face her fear, and soon, it would just keep getting bigger and bigger until it became an overwhelming force.

Hearing the TV he walked into the living room and stopped short. Sam was seated cross-legged on the sofa, her shoes under the coffee table. She had the Tv remote in one hand and a glass of white wine in the other. He vaguely remembered the bottle of wine, a left over from the Christmas dinner he'd hosted. She had to have rooted into the back of the refrigerator to find it. There were plates and silverware on the coffee table, his magazines on the floor beside her shoes.

"Oh, hi, Colonel. Dinner should be here anytime," she said pleasantly.

"Ok," he replied, frowning a bit. This wasn't what he'd expected, not after having to practically drag her out of the mountain. He sat in his chair, his feeling of unease growing as his eyes settled on a bottle of beer sitting on the coaster.

He took a long drink, watching her as she sipped her wine while she surfed. She stopped on a re-run of MASH and set down the remote. Puzzled by her casual behavior, he continued to watch her out of the corner of his eyes for a few more minutes as she sipped the wine and smiled from time to time at the antics of Hawkeye and BJ.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the doorbell rang. She unfolded herself from the couch, setting down her glass. She picked up his wallet from the hall table and he heard her answer the door.

A couple of minutes later he heard the door close and she walked back into the room carrying two boxes.

One of them she sat on the floor and the other she opened, releasing tomato scented steam into the air.

She served each of them a portion and they both settled back to eat. The episode of MASH ended and a movie began. Still without conversation, he watched her pour herself another glass of wine, then settle back on the couch, stretching out, obviously at ease. Loath to break the mood, he turned his attention to the movie, the combination of alcohol and food relaxing him as well.

The next thing he knew, he opened his eyes and saw the credits scrolling up the screen. Stretching a bit he moaned softly at the stiffness in his back and arm. He was too damned old to sleep in the recliner. He got up and glanced at the sofa, frowning at the sight of the blond major sound asleep on his couch. Oh yeah, now he remembered.

He took a few minutes to study his second, the first real chance he'd had to do so since they'd gotten her back. She'd lost a few pounds; he could see it in her face. The same as he could see healing bruises and scrapes from the handcuffs peeking from under the cuff of the denim shirt she was wearing.

They were visible reminders of his worst few minutes of the week. Knowing she was missing had been scary enough, he'd even managed to fool himself for a while, telling himself that maybe Thor had been involved. The next few days, when he'd realized that the threat was definitely a terrestrial one, he'd managed to quash his fear by focussing simply on finding her.

But those last few eternal minutes in the hall were the ones that still haunted him. The relief at hearing her  mixed with the gut wrenching fear as he recognized the desperation in her voice. The sort of helpless terror as he ran forward, not knowing if he'd make it in time, if he'd torn the place apart only to get there too late.

He shook his head to banish those nightmarish images. What ifs didn't matter. He'd made it in time. Everything had turned out pretty much ok. Everyone was alive with the only real victims being Conrad and his assistant.

And if Conrad's snake was anything like Hathor's, he had an idea the billionaire was going through hell, which was fine with him. That jackass' greed and selfishness had ruined their last sanctuary. Damn it, they were supposed to be safe here. Earth was supposed to be their refuge, the place where they could relax.

He wasn't supposed to have to keep an eye on them here. As soon as they stepped on that base or through the wormhole he was responsible for their safety and their lives. And it was a responsibility he freely accepted. He just didn't expect to feel like he had to protect them here.

When Hathor had popped up he'd told himself that it was an aberration, an oddity. She'd been in a sarcophagus, these things happen. Then they'd found Seth. Ok. Five billion people and two of them were goa'uld. Those were still pretty long odds. He could live with them.

Then Daniel found Osiris. Still he could explain it away. Stasis jars and ancient curses. Stuff happens, no big deal.

But now…now an occasional marooned goa'uld wasn't enough, they had to import more? And worst of all, they thought they could control them? What kind of idiots were these guys? They stood a better chance of stopping a lava flow by tossing gin on it.

If they just wanted to be idiots on their own, he could deal with it. But their sheer stupidity had almost cost Sam her life. And he wasn't in the mood to forgive that for a decade or two.

He quietly picked up the debris of the meal, smiling as he discovered an unopened box containing a whole cheesecake topped with thick cherry sauce. He should have known she'd get revenge. In retrospect, he was lucky all she'd tacked onto the meal was dessert.

Sliding it into the refrigerator, he returned to the living room. Bending down, he pulled a blanket off the back of the sofa and laid it over her. He'd wanted to talk, but they could talk in the morning.

Making a quick pass to make sure all the doors were locked, he turned on a small light in the kitchen then made his way upstairs where his bed beckoned.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sam slowly woke up, still in that nebulous area between sleep and awake. Feeling a stiffness in her muscles, she shifted position, rolling over. Her heart lurched as she realized she wasn't in her bunk. She sat up with a small cry, her feet kicking against the heavy blanket. Fighting down panic, she scanned the room, relaxing when she remembered where she was. The colonel's house. That was right. She'd been shanghaied into playing taxi driver and dinner companion.

In the dim light spilling from the kitchen she saw that several hours had passed, the clock on the mantle reading 0400. She should never have drunk the wine. Normally she had a fair tolerance for liquor but she'd had enough sleepless nights lately for it to go straight to her head. So much for Dutch Courage.

Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, she got up from the couch and made her way to the deck doors. Fumbling a bit with the catch she slid the door open, slipping outside.

The neighborhood was quiet, only a random car breaking the silence. She sat on a step, her eyes scanning the yard, trying vainly to penetrate the deep shadows.

Anything could be out there, or anyone.

She fought the urge to go back inside or find a nice big yard light, anything to dispel the darkness. She reached out her hand and wrapped her fingers around the railing, as much for reassurance as to keep herself from running. Damn it, she hadn't been afraid of the dark since she was two, she wasn't going to regress now.

Deliberately calming her breathing, she tried to relax. Being outside used to calm her. She'd made such a habit of it over the last few years that the guards at the SGC literally knew her by name. She used to love slipping out and watching the sunrise after an all night session. She'd sit in the quiet and watch the world awake, letting the calmness sooth her soul.

She hadn't done that since she'd come back. She'd tried the first night, slipping away from Janet's nurses and making her way to the surface. The second she'd left the reassuring circle of light she'd felt a sense of panic overwhelming her. Fight or flight had kicked in and she'd quickly retreated to the safety of the mountain. After all, if they could grab her out of a busy parking lot in broad daylight, what kind of a chance did she stand in the isolated darkness of the mountain?

One advantage of spending so much time over the past few years in the mountain was that she knew all its nooks and crannies. She knew the rooms and halls no one used very much, and the places a person could disappear to. Right now all her instincts screamed for her to get back to the mountain and the safety it offered. They warred with her independent streak that demanded she stop being such a wimp and get over it.

"This seat taken?" She jumped then calmed as she recognized the voice.

"Colonel. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

"You know me. I'm always up at…whatever time it is." He sat beside her setting down a box between them and holding out a fork. "Cheesecake?"

"Ooh. I'm sorry about that," she apologized. "I aah…"

"You were ticked off," he interrupted, pressing the fork into her hands. He opened the box and took a large bite of the dessert right out of the center. "Not bad," he said, licking the cherry filling off the fork.

She followed suit and they spent the nest several minutes eating the cheesecake.

"There's this guy," he said suddenly. "Ran the convenience store where I used to live. I'd stop there most mornings on my way into the base. He was a foreigner but I'd never thought much about it. Until I got back from the Gulf and went there for the first time. His accent," he explained at her curious look. "He was Iranian. When he talked to me I almost lost it, barely made it out of the store without making a scene. It took me a month to go back."

"Surely there were other convenience stores?"

"About a dozen. But he had the best slurpies in town." She laughed slightly, ducking her head. "There'll be good days and bad days. The dreams will fade, you know that," he said softly. "And so will these." He reached out and took her wrist, gently tracing the edges of the bruises.

"How long until I can stop looking over my shoulder?" she asked quietly.

"Mendez is dead, those two 'doctors' are in custody and Conrad…"

"Is still out there," she reminded needlessly. He knew the guy was still on the loose. Just like he knew he had zero sympathy for him. If he'd wanted her help, he should have asked for it, not taken it as if it were his due.

If Conrad had just asked, maybe he'd be sharing his head with a Tok'ra right about now instead of a prisoner to a goa'uld and the NID. If he hadn't been so greedy, maybe he'd be doing some good in the universe.

"Whoever shot me, got him," he reassured. "He's probably residing in a cell right about now."

"And if he's not?"

"We'll deal with that when it happens. Look, Conrad wanted you to find a way to evict the snake. But now the goa'uld's the boss, you're the last person he wants to see."

She sighed. "I guess you're right."

"Don't sound so shocked, it has been known to happen before."

"Thank you. For this," she explained at his raised eyebrows. "And some…really good timing," she said seriously. He could detect just the hint of remembered fear in her voice.

He accepted her thanks with a nod then picked up the cheesecake. "So, if red sky at night is sailor's delight, and red sky at morning means sailors take warning…what does cheesecake at dawn mean?"

She smiled and dug out another bite. "I think it means it's going to be a good day."

Fin


End file.
